


Sentimentality

by writesometimes



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Frank is an old-fashioned gentleman at heart, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: She stood in front of the windows and scanned the darkening New York skyline. The dark concrete, steel and glass of tall buildings blending with the inky indigo sky. There was no way she'd spot him if he was out there somewhere, but Karen knew. Frank was alive.





	Sentimentality

She finds it after a nightmare day at the Bulletin. Karen had been hunting down leads on her latest piece all day and was dead on her feet when she finally climbed the three flights of stairs to her front door. She nearly dropped her keys when she spotted it. A single white rose placed carefully on the floor right in front of her door. There was no card, but she didn't need one, she knew who it was from.

_I'm alive. I'm around. I haven't forgotten you._

Tears in her eyes, Karen bent to pick the rose up.

She unlocked her door in a rush, flung her purse on the side table in the entryway, and crossed her apartment to her living room. She stood in front of the windows and scanned the darkening New York skyline. The dark concrete, steel and glass of tall buildings blending with the inky indigo sky. There was no way she'd spot him if he was out there somewhere, but Karen _knew_. She brought the rose to her face, shut her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Frank was alive.

* * *

A week later Karen stumbled up the stairs of her building after a night out at Josie's with Foggy. He was doing well, things at the law firm were good, he and Marci were happy. Karen had tugged her cardigan around her tight and smiled, trying not to think about her empty apartment and how lonely she'd been lately.

She listened intently and sipped at her drink and assured Foggy work was great, she was fine, everything had calmed down for her and she was _fine_. She let Foggy pick up their tab but refused his offer to split a cab. "A walk and some fresh air will do me good," she reassured, smile bright and cheeks still rosy from alcohol. She didn't mention she was fairly certain someone would watch her get home and she'd be safe.

So Karen trudged home, purse pulled tightly to her side, and stumbled up the stairs. And there, lying on the floor in front of her door, was another single white rose. A choked sob freed itself from Karen's chest, her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Frank," she sighed as he leaned against her front door. She picked up the rose and made her way inside.

Slowly, slightly tipsy, she locked her door behind her, toed her heels off, and dropped her purse on the floor. She again made her way to the windows in her little living room. There, in the windowsill, a week-old single white rose drooped in a vase. Carefully, Karen plucked the old rose from the vase and replaced it with the new one. She stared into the darkness again, searching for any signs of movement.

"Where are you, Frank?" she whispered against the cool window, glass fogging up slightly from the warmth of her breath.

Eventually, Karen's eyes grew tired of watching rooftops in the dark and she plodded off to her bedroom.

* * *

Four days later Karen had a 'heated discussion' with Ellison about a source, spilled coffee all over her skirt, and got a headache just after lunch. All she wanted was to curl up beneath a blanket on her couch with some takeout and mindless television. When she shoved her front door open and a cool breeze from an open window greeted her, she forgot about her easy night in and pulled her .380 from the bottom of her purse. She would never have left a window wide open when she wasn't going to be home.

As quietly as she could, Karen toed off her heels in her entryway and padded farther into her apartment. A crash in the bathroom made her jump and she tiptoed over to the open door. The .380 in her hand, Karen poked her head into her own bathroom. Even in the dim light, she recognized the shape of the person laid out in her bathtub.

"Frank! Jesus fucking Christ!" she gasped, lowering her gun instantly. She flipped on the light and sucked in a sharp breath. Frank lay bleeding out in her tub, gray hoodie soaked red on one side. Karen laid her weapon on the counter and knelt at the side of the tub. A first aid kit laid out on the floor by the tub, contents scattered over the floor. Karen took a deep breath. "Frank? Frank? Goddamnit! This isn't the best way to make an entrance, Frank!" she pleaded somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a guttural sob. Frank's head rolled her way and slowly his eyes opened.

"What happened?" She brushed his hair from his forehead as tears threatened to break free from behind her eyes.

"Sorry, Karen," he mumbled.

A loud, surprised peal of laughter crashed through Karen's lips.

"Didn't go lookin' for it," Frank supplied groggily.

Karen rested her forehead on the cool porcelain edge of the tub. Frank reached into the pocket on the un-stained side of his hoodie and placed a small flip phone by Karen's head. "Call Curt. He can fix this," he slurred in a daze.

Karen raised her head and glanced from Frank's large frame taking up her entire bathtub and the small phone. She gingerly took the phone, opened it up, and began scrolling through the minuscule contact list. "Why'd you come _here_ , Frank?" she asked, finger hovering above the call button.

"Safe. I knew it was safe. I make sure every night. It's safe."

Karen chewed her lower lip and nodded once before hitting the call button.

Fifteen minutes later Curtis Hoyle was greeting Karen pleasantly but urgently at her front door.

"He's, uh, he's in the tub," she explained as she lead the way to her bathroom.

"Shit," Curtis mumbled under his breath when he caught sight of Frank in the tub, the pristine white of the porcelain stained with the sharp red of his own blood. He made his way into the bathroom, knelt beside the tub and placed his own enormous first aid kit on the floor. "You wanna give me a hand?"

Karen nodded and squeezed into her now cramped bathroom.

"Get his hoodie off while I get everything set up," Curtis instructed.

Karen sat down on the edge of the tub and slowly pulled at the zipper of the hoodie. Frank groaned under her hands.

"Hey, buddy, we're gonna get you fixed up. It'll be okay," Curtis soothed.

Karen took a deep breath and worked on freeing Frank's arms from his hoodie. His eyes fluttered open just as Karen was pulling it out from under him. "Curtis is here, Frank. It's all right. You're safe."

"I'm sorry, Karen," Frank mumbled before his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Karen inhaled a sharp, shaky breath. Curtis looked up at her, studying her carefully for a moment. Her entire face trembled in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the small bathroom, gaze never leaving Frank. "I've got it from here if you wanna take a breather," he said gently, tipping his head toward her living room.

Karen tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and nodded rapidly. On shaky knees she stood and squeezed her way out of her bathroom as Curtis cut Frank's t-shirt from his body and got things ready to disinfect the wound and stitch the man back together. She crossed her living room to her small kitchen where she snatched a bottle of whiskey and a glass from a cabinet.

The amber liquid burned its way down her slender throat and she choked a bit. Frank groaned loudly in her bathroom and Karen took another swig of whiskey from her glass, a tear falling without her permission. She turned around and leaned back against the formica countertop. The single white rose in the vase in her windowsill caught her eye and she smiled through her tears. Frank would heal. He would be okay.

Karen's eyes slipped closed and she sipped at her whiskey, breathing deep and steady. She wasn't sure how long she stood there leaning against her counter, pleading with the universe to just  _let Frank be okay_ , before Curtis walked out of her bathroom.

"He's stitched up, good as new. I'll help him out of the tub in a minute. I already told his dumb ass he isn't taking off tonight." He pulled off bloody latex gloves, tossed them in the waste bin and plunked a small bottle of pills on Karen's counter. "If he has any pain," he said nodding at the pills.

Karen shot a tight lipped smile his way. "Thank you. For coming. For fixing him up. For not forgetting him."

Curtis scrubbed a hand down his face. "Frank was always a good man and a good Marine. Still is a good man. No one should forget that. He's working on... everything. Even been coming to the veteran's group I lead."

Karen's brows shot up.

Curtis chuckled. "He didn't tell you? Of course not, it's Frank. Like I said, he's _working_  on things. I'll let his stubborn ass tell you all about it."

Karen smirked and set her empty glass on the counter. "Sounds good. It was good to meet you, Curtis. Wish it could have been under more... normal circumstances."

Curtis waved a hand toward the bathroom. "Nothing's ever easy or normal with that one."

As if on cue, Frank called for Curtis from his spot in the bathtub. Curtis rolled his eyes and Karen grinned wide at him.

"Coming, Sunshine!" Curtis called as he headed back to the bathroom.

Frank groused something petulantly that Karen couldn't make out. She laughed earnest and clear for the first time that night. If Frank was already pissy he was going to be just fine.

A moment later Curtis and a shirtless, bruised and bandaged Frank ambled out of the small bathroom together. Frank leaned heavily on his friend as he was steered toward the small couch in Karen's living room.

"Ma'am," Frank nodded at Karen, his voice weak and gravelly.

Karen smiled back, cheeks flushing.

"I'm gonna leave this on your couch and then, if you're cool, I'm catching a cab home. I've gotta finish insurance paperwork for about six people tomorrow and I need _some_  sleep for that," Curtis said as he plopped Frank down on Karen's couch.

She was across the room in an instant. "Thanks again, Curtis. So much. I can't --" she trailed off, eyes red rimmed again.

"I owe you one, Curt. Again," Frank spoke up.

Curtis clapped Frank on the shoulder, shook Karen's hand, collected his first aid kit from the bathroom, and showed himself out.

Karen plopped down on the couch beside Frank. He looked at her slowly, still a bit dazed. "I'm sorry for showing up like this," he muttered.

Karen leaned forward and placed a hand over Frank's knee. "What happened?" she whispered.

"I swear to you, Karen, I didn't go looking for it. I was --"

Karen raised a hand and cut him off. "No, Frank. What happened? After... the elevator and Wilson and Russo? Where'd you go? I thought. I thought you were dead for weeks, Frank." She could feel her eyes brimming with more tears but she refused to look away.

Frank glanced past her to the rose in the windowsill. He took a deep breath and explained. Micro and Russo and the carousel and Agent Madani. He told her everything. He was working as a handy man now. Pete Castiglione could fix anything. He was going to Curtis' meetings.

Karen leaned against him, laid her head on his shoulder. "I missed you. I'm glad though, that you're taking your time. Figuring it all out. And, not that the roses weren't nice, but maybe next time call also?" She smiled and pulled her legs up on the couch, angling her body towards Frank and scooted even closer to him.

He pressed his face to the top of her head and inhaled deeply. "I had this whole elaborate plan that I was just gonna keep dropping roses at your door for you until I was done being a chickenshit coward and I was ready to talk to you. To see you. Seemed pretty slick and sentimental to me." He chuckled low and smirked into Karen's soft blonde hair.

Karen honest to god giggled and pulled her head back to look him in the eye. "Very slick and sentimental. And yet --" she ghosted her fingertips over the bandages wrapped around Frank's torso.

Frank sighed and shut his eyes. "I was leaving a diner, heading back to my current shit hole apartment. One of Russo's old guys thought it would be smart to ambush me in a dark alley all by himself. To his credit he did manage to get one good slice in. I, uh, didn't really think anything through after that and just dragged my ass to the first safe place I could think of. To you."

Karen leaned down and pressed a light kiss just above Frank's bandages on his rib cage. He drew in a breath and held it. Karen panicked for a moment, thinking she had overstepped her bounds and spooked the man at her side. Frank cleared his throat and ran a hand through Karen's hair. "You're gonna stay until you're no longer in danger of pulling those stitches out," she said matter-of-factly as she sat back up and stared into Frank's eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am. Don't need you  _and_  Curt on my ass about taking it easy."

Karen laughed and pinched his arm.

"Ow! I'm an injured man, Ms. Page," his voice filled with mock indignation.

"Now that I've met Curtis you can bet your ass he and I will team up to irritate you into taking care of yourself," Karen informed him cheerfully.

Frank groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Karen grinned so hard her face hurt. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch. "Better get some rest then, so you're not pestering me about it," he said, scooting himself down on the couch.

Karen moved slightly to accommodate him and wedged herself between his un-injured side and the back of the couch. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, exhaustion and whiskey finally kicking in. "G'night, Frank," she mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to his bare shoulder.

Frank smirked to himself and pressed a light kiss to her temple. "Good night, Karen."

* * *

Two days later two dozen white roses were delivered to Karen at the Bulletin. She eagerly tore the card open.

_Didn't think Curt would fully appreciate the sentimentality of roses but thought you might get it. Thank you._

Karen smiled and tucked the note away in her purse.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Kastle fic cause I'm absolute trash for this pairing and I couldn't leave this idea alone
> 
> Kudos and comments literally make my whole day
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://imwritesometimes.tumblr.com/)


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